


S.N.A.F.U.

by GertieCraign



Series: My Dean Calls Me 'Brother' [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Feels, Best Friends, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Has Realizations, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon, Kissing, M/M, No One Else Dies In This Fic, Our Cas Is In One of Them, Our Cas is with the Winchesters in This Universe, Pining, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, References to Major Character Death - Canon, Season/Series 12, Self-Sacrifice, Tags for Parallel Universe Fics are Really Hard, The Rift Opened Alternate Parallel Universes, This Series has a Happy Ending, This Universe's Cas Died on the Beach in Washington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign/pseuds/GertieCraign
Summary: The rift has re-opened by the lake in Washington. Our Cas is going home.Saying 'goodbye' to paradise is never easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This segment of the series will be multi chapter. It is the only one that is, so far, so I wanted to point it out.
> 
> Also, this is the FINAL segment in the series.

 

  

Cas did his very best to focus on the spell. It was mostly automatic and it would lead him to the right universe without any additional guidance, but he still wanted to make certain it didn't fail. He couldn’t afford months or years waiting for the rift to open again. He had to get home.

Fragments of the cosmos were unfolding before him in an impossibly complex pattern, and under normal circumstances, Cas would have absorbed and studied every detail, relishing the beauty and precision of the Creation and trying to understand. At the moment, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. His thoughts were entirely with the friends he’d left behind.

Dean had stood strong between his surrogate father and his little brother. They both wrapped a supportive arm around him. All three men did their very best to keep their emotions in check as their friend said his final ‘goodbyes’ to each of them. None of them was entirely successful, but Dean struggled the most...for obvious reasons.

In the last moment, standing at the rift, looking at Dean and knowing he’d never see him or hear from him again, Cas could barely keep himself from going back for one more embrace. One more kiss. He wanted to hear his friend’s gentle voice whispering in his ear, letting him know he was loved, and he wanted to tell Dean just how much he meant to him. He wanted to thank him again and again...for everything. Leaving him felt like being crushed from the inside out and he’d realized if he didn’t force himself to go through the rift right then, he never would.

Now, as he stood on the barren soil of an apocalyptic Earth, waiting for the moment he could return to his own universe, his deepest wish was for some kind of confirmation that the other Castiel had indeed been resurrected, as his Father had promised. The tiniest hint before he’d left would have sufficed. A glimpse of a shimmering figure starting to take shape near the cabin, or the flutter of wings out of the corner of his eye. Anything to let him know he wasn’t abandoning Dean to a life filled with longing and pain. Cas knew exactly how that felt.

His eye was drawn to a small spot in the infinite matrix. Segments flickered and shifted abruptly, as though the spell had keyed onto something. It was getting closer. A few more seconds and he should be able to cross back home.

The rift flashed slightly and something small and hard hit him in the leg. He was startled and looked down, careful not to disturb the spell bowl on the ground in front of him.

It was a cellphone. He looked back at the rift, and then at the phone again, and quickly picked it up.

Still keeping an eye on the spell, he let himself glance back to the phone as he rolled it face-up in his hand. He pressed the Home button and smiled when he saw the wallpaper photo. Dean was making a goofy face at the camera. He had one arm slung over Castiel’s shoulders. The angel was looking sideways at him, trying to feign annoyance and failing. It was a wonderful picture. They looked so happy together.

Still not taking his eyes away from the spell for more than a brief moment at a time, Cas slid his thumb across the screen to unlock it. A video was already queued up. He pressed play.

“He’s here, Cas!” Dean’s voice cracked badly as he nearly screamed the words. His face crowded the screen, but he immediately dragged another face into view.

Cas smiled hugely when he recognized himself. A very happy Castiel was smiling at the camera and looking rather disoriented. “Say ‘Hi’ to yourself!” Dean demanded into the angel’s ear.

Cas turned his head and stared at him. Dean didn’t bother trying to prompt him anymore. He just laughed and sobbed at the same time, grabbed Cas’s face, and kissed him senseless.

The camera backed up and both Bobby and Sam came into view. The kissing continued behind them.

“Just wanted you to know!” Sam blurted.

“You take care of yourself, son,” Bobby jumped in. “We’ll be thinkin’ about ya.”

Dean’s arm shoved the two of them apart and he got himself back in view.

“I love ya, Cas. I did then and I still do. You remember that.” He was smiling, but his voice shook badly and he broke down again. “Go get ‘im, Tiger!” he barely managed to yell.

Cas and Dean had a very quick exchange in the background. While Sam and Bobby smiled and waved at the camera.

“Bye, Cas!” Sam said, smiling and choking back tears.

“Be patient with him,” Cas yelled over Bobby’s shoulder. He shoved his way to the front of the camera, wearing his most serious expression. “It may take time. He’s very insecure.”

Sam burst out laughing, then turned and slung an arm around his brother and his friend.

“Bye, Cas!” Bobby shouted. He chuckled and waved again, then the video ended.

Cas realized he’d taken his eyes completely off of the spell for the full seven seconds of that video. He kicked himself for being so negligent, but he was still smiling. He missed them already.

He dropped the phone in his pocket, while keeping his eyes focused intently on the bowl. It occurred to him he should send something back to them. Let them know he got the message. He fished around in his pockets, but had nothing he could give them. He certainly wasn’t going to toss the phone back. He’d treasure that video for eternity. Dean could get another phone.

In a burst of inspiration, he grinned and quickly loosened what Dean had referred to as _'the least sexy tie ever in the history of ties.'_  He pulled it up over his head, leaving the heavy knot in place and used that weight to sling the tie back through the rift. He smiled hugely when the rift flashed and the tie disappeared.

Right then, the bowl sparked. The spell had found the matching universe and locked on. A single cosmic slice began to expand from infinite thinness into a larger and larger plane, aligning itself along the rift’s primary vector.

Cas sighed, pleased that he’d had a chance to say one last ‘goodbye’.

“Be well, my friends,” he murmured, as he watched the universe containing them slip into the void.

He felt the tears welling back up and didn’t bother trying to stop them. There was no point, now. He didn’t need to be strong for anyone. He was certain no one would be waiting for him when he stepped back into his version of the universe. Not after two months. His friends would have returned to the bunker or gone after the nephilim, or Lucifer, or whatever other crisis might be vying for their immediate attention. He knew when he stepped through the rift, he’d be alone.

That thought triggered another aching sense of loss. The closeness and constant companionship he’d experienced over the last two months - the sense of belonging, of being wanted and loved and needed... He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d let it sink in. How much it had helped him to let go of the constant pain and loneliness he’d felt for years. Before all of this, he knew how to survive. He could wall himself off and white-knuckle his way through one task or crisis after another. He was used to it. But now...after this experience...the thought of being alone again...  

The last alignment was taking place just as the contents of the spell-bowl began to dim. Cas stood, readying himself. He grabbed the duffel bag full of supplies and gifts his friends had packed for him and slung it over his shoulder. He wished he could bring the spell bowl with him, too. He didn’t want to part with anything that would remind him of the other Dean, Sam and Bobby.

He snorted and shook his head, surprised by the sentimental value he had begun to attach to objects. It was a very human thing to do.

Unfortunately, the bowl could not be moved until he’d already crossed through the rift. It would have to be left behind.

The rift pulsed - the alignment was complete. Cas shifted the bag on his shoulder and stepped through.

He’d been right. He was alone. The cabin looked empty and there were no lights or sounds, other than the tree frogs, cicadas, and numerous other living sound machines. It was peaceful, chilly, and just beginning to rain.

Cas took a deep breath and let it out. The slight disharmony his true form had sensed during his time in the other universe was gone. He knew he was home.

He shrugged, and looked around. To his surprise, his truck was still there, right where he’d last parked it in front of the cabin. He pondered that for a moment, but the rain increased and he decided he should get moving.

His keys were still in his pocket, so he got in and tried to get it to start. It took a few attempts. The poorly tuned engine was not pleased about coming back to life after having sat so long, but it eventually acquiesced.

He sat quietly, looking at the dash, the steering wheel, the stereo...just taking it in. Almost immediately, he felt a strong urge to call Dean. He wanted to tell him he was home. Wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to see him as soon as possible. To know he was ok. To pull him close and feel him warm and safe in his arms. He wanted to see his friend’s beautiful smile and kiss him until all the stress of the last few days melted away…

He swallowed and closed his eyes, letting his vessel breathe steadily to try and break up the tightness in his chest. He needed to let go of this feeling before he saw his friends. Things may have been very difficult for them in his absence. They didn’t need him falling apart when he finally showed up again.

But, how _had_ they been? The thought spurred Cas out of his reverie. He pulled out his phone and was very pleased to see he had strong cell reception. He opened his contacts and selected ‘Dean’, leaving his finger poised above ‘Call’...and then he went back to his contacts. He selected Sam, but then changed his mind again and texted Sam instead.

 

        _‘Hello, Sam. Where are you?’_

 

There was only a brief delay before a text came through.

 

_‘Victor, OR  Where r u?’_

 

Cas sighed and smiled, thoroughly pleased to get a quick reply from his friend. Sam was ok, at least.

 

_‘North Cove. At the cabin. Is Dean with you? And Mary?’_

 

There was a substantial delay before the next message arrived. Cas fidgeted. He wondered if there was something wrong after all.

 

_‘U were going to MN? 3 days ago?’_

 

So...there _was_ another Castiel in this universe. He sighed. This could get very complicated.

 

_‘Was that the last time either of you saw or heard from me?’_

 

The delay was much shorter this time, but Sam was now calling instead. Cas swallowed again. He already had a strong suspicion this was not going to be a fun conversation.

He cleared his throat and accepted the call.

"Hello, Sam.”

“WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Dean’s voice boomed. Cas jumped, pulling the phone away from his ear. “That phone was stolen off a _friend_ of mine, so you better have a _good_ _goddamn_ _reason_ it's even in your hand right now!”

“Dean!”

Pause.

“Cas?!” Dean yelled at an only slightly lower volume.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What the hell…” Dean’s voice trailed off and Cas could hear them shuffling the phone.

“Hey, Cas! Got ya on speaker.” Sam said, sounding cheerful. Cas immediately knew he was _not_ cheerful. Sam was highly suspicious. Both of them were. “You, uh...kinda surprised us, ya know? You were headin’ the other direction last time we talked.”

Cas sighed. “We...have a lot we need to discuss. But first, is Mary with you?”

“Uh, no...Cas. She’s not with us right now. Listen,” Sam said, redirecting, “we’ve been trying to reach you for a few days, and- ”

“Yeah…” Dean interrupted, “ya know...you go radio silent like that, and I worry. Kinda... half expect you’re gonna show up on the hood of the car again...wearin’ nothin’ but a smile and a few hundred hornets.”

“I… They weren’t hornets, they were bees.”

“Right! Right,” Dean said, snapping his fingers like he’d just remembered. “They were those...weird bees that accidentally got set loose in Arizona.”

Cas squinted. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again.

“I thought they were killer bees," Sam said. "The ones spreadin’ up from Mexico.”

“I have no idea what varieties either of you are referring- ”

“They were the fat ones,” Dean cut him off, “with the...big stinger and a black stripe down it’s back. And they fly real fast.” Cas could hear Dean making motions while he described this completely unidentifiable species of honey bee.

“Those are killer bees,” Sam snapped. “That’s what I said.”

“I fail to see how this would matter under the cir- ”

“That’s not what killer bees look like, Sam!”

“Dean- ”

“What were they, Cas?” Sam asked sounding thoroughly irritated.

Cas sighed very heavily. “The colony I observed and subsequently befriended were European Honey Bees or... Apis mellifera. Specifically, the subspecies Apis mellifera iberiensis Engel. They are not native to North America but are certainly common, considering their great importance to agricul- ”

“Ok. That’s enough. It’s you,” Dean cut him off. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m...at the cabin. In North Cove.”

“You’re at the cabin right now?” Sam asked. He sounded very surprised.

“Yes.”

“You in your truck?” Dean asked.

Cas squinted. “Yes,” he said looking around outside his windows. He opened his door and looked behind the truck to the road approaching the cabin. The moment he leaned out, he heard the familiar rumble. Dean flashed the impala’s high-beams twice.

“We see ya.” Dean said and then hung up. They parked right behind the truck. Cas stepped out and stood by his open door.

“We missed it, Sam! Let it go! I’m not doin’ anything else until I get cleaned up!” Dean barked as he stepped out of the car. “Front door open, Cas?” Dean asked, shutting his door harder than usual. He walked back to the trunk.

“Uh…” Cas fumbled. He reached into the truck and grabbed his keys out of the ignition. He also grabbed his duffel. “I can open it.”

“So, did you see it?” Sam asked, turning to Cas as he closed the trunk. He walked quickly toward the cabin.

“See… Oh!” Cas said, finally understanding what was happening. He nodded. “That’s why you’re here.”

Sam tossed his bag on the front porch and looked back at Cas, exasperated.

“Yes...I saw the rift,” Cas quickly added. “I- ”

“Yeah, of course that’s why we’re here,” Dean nearly shouted. He was standing by the front door, looking back at Cas impatiently.

Sam just shook his head and walked toward the back of the cabin.

Cas hesitated, not really wanting to let either of them out of his sight. He still felt the power of the rift dissipating and there was always the slim possibility of unanticipated danger…

“Cas! Come on,” Dean demanded. He made no effort to hide his irritation. “I wanna get this shit off of me.” He set his bag down and tucked his phone, keys, wallet, etc into the outer pocket. He stripped off his coat and overshirt, then squatted down to start untying his boots.

Cas trotted up the steps and flipped through the keys. When he got close to his friend, he sniffed once and winced. He looked down at Dean and realized there were few places on the man’s clothing and body that weren’t splashed with some sort of blackish goo.

Dean noticed him staring and shook his head. “Don’t ask. We don’t know what the hell it was.” He pulled off one boot and dropped it loudly onto the porch. “Just that it was hissy and grabby and when I kicked it in the gut, it exploded. Even the demons that had us pinned down freaked out when it showed up.” He dropped his other boot and stood, unbuckling his belt and stripping out of his jeans. “It distracted ‘em long enough for us to finally get outta there, though. That was _the_ _only_ good thing about it.”

“Are you injured?” Cas asked, reaching for him.

“No, I’m good.” Dean looked down at his shirt and sighed with disgust. He pulled that off as well and threw it on the pile. “Just...whatever you do, do _not_ try to describe what it smells like,” Dean warned, as Cas swung the front door open. “I’ve already puked twice. No more visuals.”

Dean stepped inside. Cas followed.

“So, he didn’t come back through?” Dean asked over his shoulder. He made his way to the table and set his bag on top, unzipping it.

Cas began turning on lights. “Who?” he asked.

Dean let his head roll and leaned forward, putting both fists on the table. He sighed very heavily.

“ _Lucifer!_ ” he demanded, throwing an exhausted and very frustrated glare at the angel.

Cas stared back at him, trying to process Dean’s meaning and the clues from this situation fast enough to answer. He needed to get some information across to his friend. That didn’t seem possible, though. There was too much coming at him. And for some reason, he was having difficulty properly sensing his surroundings. All of the inputs felt slightly detached and two-dimensional. It all seemed to be going too fast, as well.

Dean started rummaging through his bag, pulling out a few items, but then he gave up and roughly shoved everything back in.

“Ya know, I get that Jack needs the...mind-meld things you two’ve been doin’,” Dean said brusquely, closing the bag, “but it’s screwin’ with your memory _way too much_ , now.” He pulled the bag off the table and headed for the stairs. “You don’t even know what the hell’s goin’ on half the time!”

“Dean, I- ”

“Mom’s _dead_ , Cas! She died ‘cause she was too close to Kelly when Jack was born! How many times are you gonna make me say it?!” He glared at the angel. “So, NO...she’s NOT with us!”

Cas stared at him in shock for a moment and then squeezed his eyes closed.

Dean waved him off. “But you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. I’m not gonna keep arguin’ with you about it.” He quickly climbed the stairs. “It’s freakin’ pointless,” he said, mostly to himself, but loud enough to know Cas would hear.

Cas listened to him stomp to the bathroom on the second floor. The door slammed.

Behind him, the front door opened and Sam came in, similarly disrobed. He blew past Cas, duffel bag in hand, and headed for the stairs.

“So, he didn’t come through when it opened?” the younger Winchester asked.

Cas was prepared this time. “No. He didn’t come through.”

“Good,” Sam said flatly, without looking at him, and ran up the stairs. He went into the master suite and shut the door.

Cas stood for a long moment in the stillness. He heard the hiss of water running through the pipes as first one shower came on and then the other.

The grandfather clock adorning the corner of the living room lightly chimed once. Ten-thirty. It had only been late afternoon fifteen minutes ago, when he’d said goodbye to his friends. He was sure they were still standing on the beach, greeting their angel, hugging him, laughing, telling him about the strange things that had happened while he was gone.

Cas’s hand dropped into his pocket almost without him thinking about it. He pulled out both phones - his and Dean’s. Slipping his own back into his pocket, he unlocked his friend’s phone and slowly moved toward the table. He sat in the nearest chair and pressed play.

 

* * *

 

The sealed brick of cheddar, unopened carton of half and half and the salted butter were all still fresh enough to eat, so Cas made a batch of rich, cheesy, instant mashed potatoes. He opened a big can of pork and beans to go with them. Luckily, Kelly had insisted on getting several packages of frozen meatballs, when they’d purchased the crib. There were still two packs left. Cas now knew just how much these men could eat, so he put both packages and the can of beans into a saucepan and warmed them as quickly as he could without burning them. The stove in the cabin was different from Bobby’s, so he stayed close by, carefully monitoring the temperature and stirring…just as his friend had taught him.

The food was steaming hot, as the second shower turned off. Both men had taken much longer than usual to get cleaned up. He didn’t blame them. The stench they’d brought into the cabin was still lingering. Whatever they’d killed earlier that day had certainly been foul as well as evil. He could sense the wickedness in it’s remains, but the smell was just as odious.

He thought his grace might still be strong enough to thoroughly clean the clothing and boots on the porch, without damaging them. He decided to try later. Perhaps after his friends had gone to sleep.

He was setting the plates of food on the table when he heard one of them making his way slowly down the first half of the stairs. The footfalls stopped at the landing.

Cas had re-watched the ‘goodbye’ video at least two dozen times since his friends had gone upstairs. He couldn’t seem to go more than a minute or two, before needing to watch it again. That much repetition made hearing the sound of Dean’s voice coming through a tiny phone speaker a non-event… That is, until Cas realized what he was now hearing wasn’t coming from his video. Dean’s voice was saying something different...and it was coming from the landing.

The instant Cas heard it, he felt the blood drain from his vessel’s head and face. He actually had to use his grace to keep from falling over. He was grateful he hadn’t been holding any food, because he dropped the napkins and silverware in his hands and sprinted to the bottom of the stairs... intending to rush up to his friend, grab the phone and…

He never completed that thought. Dean was standing on the landing, staring at his phone with the same shocked pallor Cas had. After a couple of seconds, he looked at the angel.

They stared directly at one another, frozen in place as the voice of another Dean Winchester continued to share his thoughts.

 

     “...crossing a line. I get that. But we both know he’s not gonna say anything if it’s gonna put you on the spot. He, uh... He loves you too much for that. So…”

            (* _clearing throat*)_

     “And...um… I mean, this is really the only way you’re gonna talk about it.”

            ( _*clearing throat*)_

     “So, yeah. Just get him to give you the letters. They’ll do a better job of explainin’ all this. There’s one from Bobby for each of you, too. Actually, I think Bobby recorded something. I’m not a hundred percent on that. We did this pretty quick. But check the files Sam sent. There’s a bunch of ‘em that oughta be coming through on your phones as soon as Cas gets back in range of your universe’s cell coverage. If you got this one, you should be gettin' them, too. Sam took care of all that, so…uh...”

            ( _*sniff* *clearing throat*)_

     “Yeah, so... Get the letters.”

            ( _*sniff* *long pause*)_

     “Just...take care of him. Ok? I know...things are different between you two...but...um...he, uh…”

            ( _*sniff* *pause* *sniff*)_

     “He’s hurtin’. I know you can see that.”

            ( _*very long pause* *sniff* *groan/sigh* *sniff*)_

     “So...just do me a favor, and, uh… Ya know, if you don’t… If you really _can’t_ love him...for...whatever fuckin’ reason, man...I dunno...I don’t get it. But if you can’t, then you find a way to open that rift.”

            ( _*sniff* *voice breaks*)_

     “And you send him back to me. ‘Cause I will.”

            ( _*long pause*)_

     “So, uh... So, yeah. That’s it.”

            ( _*sniff*)_

     “You and Sam... You take good care of each other. Ok, man? And you, uh... You take care of our angel, too.”

            ( _*sniff* *pause*)_

     “Ok…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas really is home. I believe that our Mary died in our universe in the season 12 finale and the one who beat up lucifer is a different mary. I have several Tumblr posts supporting the idea of parallel universes and character swapping. That's where this idea is coming from. 
> 
> There are quite a few scenes that I intended to write that would fit between 'Prayer' and this installment, but I was getting myself too sad thinking about all of this and just needed to get Cas back home. So I wrote this one first. Considering how behind I am on everything else, this might be the last installment. But there will be at least one more chapter to this fic, so...keep watching. I already have half of Chapter 2 written.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the video from parallel-universe-Dean.  
> Lot's and lots of talking.  
> Prepare yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Star Wars’, George Lucas, 1977  
> ‘The Twilight Zone’, Rod Serling, 1959-1964
> 
>  
> 
> This is it, folks. The last chapter in this series. I'd love to keep writing this, but I have to get back to The Tether. It's killing me that I'm not getting that done.  
> I really hope you find this ending satisfying. Thanks again for putting up with the crazy format and for all your wonderful and supportive comments. You folks are the best!  
> *smooch*

The wind picked up. There was a storm moving in from the coast and the gusts made the cabin’s old wooden siding creak ominously.

Sam had escaped the staggering discomfort he’d walked in on half an hour ago, by starting a small fire in the hearth. It was still summer, but the storm brought with it a chill that warranted at least some heating. Especially with the wind moaning through small gaps in the old windows.

The three of them sat at the table in silence, their unease growing with each scrape of silverware against a plate. When the grandfather clock began to gently chime eleven o’clock, it seemed far too loud. By the seventh or eighth chime, it had become grating. Sam sighed and cleared his throat.

“So you were there the whole time?” he asked Cas, very quietly. He waited for the angel to answer, but when Cas continued to stare numbly at the unlit cell phone lying on the table in front of him, Sam went back to finishing his dinner.

“After the first week,” Cas eventually said, barely above a whisper. “I was in the alternate universe you saw, for the first week. I went to the second universe after that.”

“You used a spell to direct the rift, when it opened?”

“Yes.”

Sam nodded and moved a meatball around on his plate with his fork. He eventually remembered that he should eat it.

They sat there for several more minutes without a word. At one point, Sam caught Dean’s eye. The two of them shared a very long look, after which Sam sped up his eating considerably, and then took his plate to the sink.

“Ok,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Looks like the world isn’t gonna explode in the next few hours after all, so...I’m gonna turn in.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother preparing to get up. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and pushed down, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Dean stayed still.

Sam started to turn toward the stairs, but thought better of it. He moved over to his friend’s side, instead.

“Glad you’re back, Cas,” he said, giving him a light pat on the back.

Cas turned his shell-shocked expression to the young man and did his best to grin. It didn’t work. He looked horrible.

Sam managed a small smile. He pat Cas’s shoulder, and then Dean’s, as he walked past and went up the stairs.

“Night, Sam,” Dean called after him.

“Night, guys.” Sam said from the upper floor.

After a short pause, Dean grabbed his glass of water and chugged down the remainder. He sighed and wiped his mouth.

“The food was good, Cas. Thanks,” he mumbled.

Cas didn’t respond. Or move. He didn’t even blink.

Dean just sat with him for several minutes, staring at nothing in particular. Gusts from the storm outside blew dried pine needles against the cabin, creating an eerie hiss. The only other sound was the ticking of the clock. Even Sam’s movements upstairs had stopped.

Eventually, Dean rose, taking his plate to the sink and washing up. He dried his hands and looked in a few cabinets. Then he opened the refrigerator. No beer. He sighed, then grabbed two cans of Coke and brought them back to the table. He set one in front of Cas and slowly sat back down.

They both stayed almost completely still for a couple of minutes, not even opening the cans. Eventually, Dean popped his open. The sound was enough to jar Cas out of his stupor. He reached out slowly and opened his own can, bringing it to his lips for a sip. He winced at the taste and set the can back down on the table.

“Think I saw a bottle of wine in there,” Dean said. He saw Cas move in his peripheral vision and he looked up at him. They made eye contact...finally. Cas nodded. Dean fetched the bottle and two glasses. “Come on,” he mumbled, motioning toward the couch.

Cas abandoned the can of soda on the table and followed his friend. He sat next to him, as Dean poured half a bottle each into the large water glasses he’d chosen. He handed one to Cas and then began a solid attack on his own. It was half gone after one extended swig.

“She was a remarkable person,” Cas said, staring into his glass. “I’m grateful I had the chance to know her...no matter how briefly.”

Dean took another swig. He reached up and scratched at the stubble on his jaw and then just nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Cas began.

“Let’s just...not…” Dean cut him off, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. He sighed heavily and looked over at his friend. “Not now,” he finished, much more calmly. Cas nodded and went back to staring at his wine.

Dean cleared his throat, and let his gaze settle on the small fire. He’d need to put a bit more wood on there if they wanted it to last, but he just didn’t care enough to move. He took another sip or two of the wine, letting the silence linger for awhile.

He could have kept it that way all night. He could just sit quietly or talk about anything other than the elephant in the room and Cas would follow along. It was tempting. He had no idea what to do with any of this.  

“He mentioned letters?” Dean forced himself to ask, before he lost his nerve.

Cas nodded and reached across the coffee table for his duffel bag. Dragging it close, he opened it. The letters were right on top. Each envelope was clearly labelled with the intended recipient.

He pulled them out and sorted them into three stacks: ‘Dean’, ‘Sam’, and both. He paused when he got to the last one. It was labelled ‘Cas’.

He stared at it for a long moment, wondering what could possibly have been left unsaid. Dean had shared so much with him. They’d talked many, many times, often for hours on end, especially in the last week. He’d told him anything and everything the moment it had come to mind. Nothing was held back.

All of their conversations had hurt in one way or another. Even so, when Cas had stood at the threshold of the rift, looking back, he would have given almost anything to spend a few more minutes with Dean in that universe. It was only after he’d crossed through the rift that he’d managed to get himself into the mental space of understanding that there would never be any more communication. He’d accepted it.

Now, knowing there _would_ be further communication, he was finding it much more difficult to keep his feelings in check. He wanted to leave the room and read the letter immediately. He also wanted to shove it to the very bottom of the bag and forget it existed. When he turned the envelope over, the words on the back, written in Dean’s unmistakable printed scrawl, made the decision for him. He pushed it slowly down along the inside of the bag.

“Not gonna read it?” Dean asked.

“It’s says I should open it in private,” Cas answered quietly and then took a long drink from his glass.

Dean nodded and finished off the last gulp of his wine. He set the glass down and reached for his own pile, slowly scooting it toward his side of the table. With only a moment’s deliberation, he tapped his finger lightly on the stack and then pulled his hand away.

“Prob’ly a good idea,” Dean said. He cleared his throat again and motioned toward the bag. “What else they send home with ya? From the universe far, far away?”

Cas set down his glass and reached into the bag.

“The separation of parallel universes has nothing to do with distance,” he began, but then he opened his mouth in a silent ‘Ah’ and nodded. “You were...um...referencing Star Wars.”

He began unpacking. The other Dean had put all of the clothing at the top of the bag, so Cas started by pulling out a shirt...and then another shirt...and another. They were crisp button-downs in saturated colors - gun metal grey, eggplant, royal navy blue. The next one was bright white. Another, in a pale cream. Three more in vivid plaids. A stack of soft-looking t-shirts and henleys. Several pairs of jeans. Two pairs of shoes. A really good pair of dark brown boots.

“Jeez,” Dean said, looking at the spread on the coffee table. He had to move his letters and his drink out of the way just to make room. “Did they think we were gonna send ya back to school naked?”

“He went a bit overboard,” Cas said, and then turned a confused look to his friend. “I don’t need...why would they think I’d be going to a school?” Dean started shaking his head halfway through the question and waved to indicate Cas should just keep going.

“I tried to remind them that I don’t require additional clothing, but all three of them insisted I should have more. Well...actually, they said _‘different’_ clothing. Sam strongly recommended that I change into something else, once I arrived home and the two of you established it was really me.” He looked over at his friend and grinned. “Dean said I should ‘salt and burn’ this entire outfit.”

Dean snorted. “Well, don’t burn the suit,” he said as he picked up one of the shirts and eyed it appreciatively. They’d definitely picked out decent stuff for him. “You’re still gonna need that some...times...” As he was saying it, Cas pulled out a very nice suit jacket, pants, and vest and laid them on the table. Dean blinked and pursed his lips. “Ok, then.”

“Oh!” Cas said, sounding very surprised, as he pulled out the next item. He stood and let the long, tan trench coat unroll, holding it out in front of him. “Oh, no,” he chuckled.

“Hey!” Dean drew the exclamation out. “It’s Old Faithful!”

Cas groaned. “I fear the other version of me may not be too happy about this.” He stared at the coat for just a moment longer. Then his smile grew. He wriggled out of the coat he was wearing and put the other one on.

“Let’s see,” Dean said, tapping Cas’s arm to get him to turn. He did and they both smiled broadly.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s better.”

Cas was still grinning as he fussed with the garment for a moment, getting it properly settled. “I grew quite fond of this coat very early on. It vaguely reminded me of my time in a former vessel. She had long fur on her back and sides. The weight and movement felt somewhat similar to this.”

“You...,” Dean began, squinting. Then he just shook his head and blinked. He was way too tired to listen to the angel explain that.

Cas sat back down and continued unpacking.

Two jackets, two sweaters, two vests, five ties, a bag of assorted socks, underwear and pajama bottoms, and a thin, black tank top. That was the last of the clothing.

Dean looked at the still-half-full duffel bag and shook his head.

“This,” Cas said excitedly, as he pulled out something wrapped in a heavy chamois, “is a gift for you. From...you. The other you.” He handed it very carefully to his friend.

Dean eyed it suspiciously as he took it. Cas had a rare glint in his eye, so this gift was either something really awesome or his friend had just handed him the weirdest piece of random shit he’d ever see in his life and he’d have to act grateful to keep from hurting his feelings. He prepared himself for either possibility.

Whatever the gift was, it had an odd shape. It was heaviest on one end and the way it sat in his hand felt really familiar. Kind of like…

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered. His eyes were huge before he’d even finished unwrapping it.  When the last fold of leather fell away, he stared in disbelief at the ornate, long barrelled gun in his hand.

“Is this… It’s the Colt? The real one?” Dean’s energy level jumped. He was suddenly wide awake and sitting upright on the edge of the couch cushion. In his excitement, he nearly forgot to ensure the gun wasn’t loaded before he started fawning over it and unabashedly feeling it up. He couldn’t believe he’d ever have this kind of luck.

“It is. If our timelines did indeed diverge _after_ Stull Cemetery, then this is literally the exact gun you dropped in that field in Carthage, Missouri.”

Dean squinted, looking at the angel incredulously for a moment. “That can’t... How can the same gun be a melted mess back at the bunker, but I’m holding it in my hand right now and it’s still in perfect shape?”

“Parallel universes are meant to be completely separate, once created. Information and matter do not cross between them. You are right to be confused. What you have in your hand should not exist. Not in this universe.” He nodded and his tone shifted slightly. “What I experienced in the last two months should not have been possible, either. You and I are witnesses to the extreme power this nephilim is able to wield.”

Dean swallowed as the implications of Cas’s words sparked every part of his imagination in the worst possible ways. Rifts opening between all the universes - anything and everything pouring through from one to the other until every universe was jumbled into utter chaos. It was horrifying...the most nightmare-ish episode of The Twilight Zone ever. He shut that thought process down immediately.

“I shared with him...the _other_ _you_...about our universe. I told him things had become even more dangerous after the initial threat of the apocalypse had passed. He didn’t need me to tell him an item like the Colt would be invaluable to you, here.” Cas grinned, watching his friend stare reverently at the gun. “I’m sure you can understand it wasn’t easy for him to part with it. He’d only recently re-acquired it and was quite infatuated.” He snorted a quick laugh. “Just as you are now.”

Dean spared a quick look at him, then turned back to the gun. He wasn’t embarrassed. He’d make out with that little beauty all night. He didn’t care who saw him do it.

“When I mentioned our version of it had recently been destroyed,” Cas continued, “it took less than a minute for him to decide to let it come back with me. Which...wasn’t really a surprise. He is _you,_ after all. _Of course_ you’d sacrifice something you wanted in order to help save others. Even so...I was proud of you. As always.” Cas was looking directly at Dean now. “I regret that you’ve been forced to do that so often, my friend.”

It didn’t bother or surprise Cas that Dean wouldn’t look at him. He knew he had difficulty accepting praise. Not wanting to let the discomfort continue, Cas turned his attention back to the bag and pulled out another item.

“This,” Cas said, handing Dean a scroll of thick paper tied with a ribbon, “is for Sam, but D- the _other_ you, wanted me to make sure you saw it too.”

Dean put the Colt back into his chamois on the coffee table and took the scroll. He carefully untied the ribbon and scooted some things out of the way, so he could roll the paper out.

“Oh, man…” Dean mumbled when he saw what it said.

“Sam was...um...the other Sam...was hopeful that... _our_ Sam would accept this in the spirit in which it was given. He knew it might be painful for him, but...he thought perhaps Sam might like to have confirmation that he is, indeed, capable of this achievement...given the opportunity.”

Dean stared at the document for a long time, letting his finger lightly trace over the name in the center.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, grinning. He sniffed lightly and cleared his throat. “The trustees and faculty of the university, by virtue of the authority vested in them, have conferred on Samuel Winchester, who has satisfactorily pursued the studies and passed the examinations required therefor, the degree of Juris Doctor.” An enormous smile spread across his face. “He did it.”

“He did,” Cas confirmed.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean repeated, chuckling. “Atta boy, Sammy.” He smoothed the document lightly with one hand, making sure he could see the whole thing. A moment later, he very carefully rolled it back up and tied the ribbon around it. At least one tear had made its way down his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away. He set the diploma on top of Cas’s nice suit, making sure it was well away from the gun and the wine glasses. He sniffed and wiped his face again.

Cas handed him one of the pairs of socks laid out on the table. “I don’t remember placing any tissues down here. They’re all upstairs, in the nursery or Kelly’s room.”

Dean looked at the socks, then Cas’s very sincere face and back at the socks. He smile got bigger and he chuckled again.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the dark navy fabric. He shrugged, still grinning, and wiped his face.

“I believe the remaining items are all copies of books and files. Information they’d found over the last few years that they thought you might need.” Cas dug through the bag, fishing around through an enormous stack of papers, envelopes, and DVDs in jewel cases. He also pulled out a large, accordion file with a few manilla envelopes inside. Dean took that from him and dug briefly though. When he saw an envelope labelled ‘Pictures’, he pulled it out.

That folder contained what looked like more than half a ream of photographs printed onto copy paper. Many of them were ones Dean recognized as family photos and pictures of him and Sam as kids. They’d been in albums and frames at Bobby’s house. All of them had been lost in the fire.

“Wow,” Dean said, flipping through them and grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, man...this is,” he paused and shook his head. “This is great, Cas.”

Cas stopped fishing around in the bag long enough to smile at his friend.

“Huh,” Dean grunted. He pulled a second, much slimmer envelope from the stack of photos. It was labelled ‘Dean’.

“What’s that?” Cas murmured. He was asking Dean but seemed to be mostly speaking to himself.

Dean had already opened the envelope and was looking at the first photo by the time it occurred to Cas what they might be. The angel’s face went ashen again and he had to stop himself from snatching the bundle away from his friend.

The first ones were innocuous: group photos at sporting events, restaurants, bars, parties at the homes of people Dean didn’t recognize, but were clearly friends of the other Singer/Winchester clan. He and Cas were in all of them, sometimes sitting close, leaning into one another. When they were together, the two of them were always beaming at the camera.

Dean almost stopped flipping through them, too tired to take a trip down memory lane with photos from a different Dean’s life. But the next photo was of all four of them - Sam, Cas, Bobby and himself. They were in very dapper suits, but had their jackets off. Their white shirts blazed brightly in the camera flash - a stark contrast to their dark vests and pants. They appeared to be attempting an awkward rendition of the Electric Slide, leaning down and forward in unison. The humans were sweaty and red faced, like they’d had plenty to drink already and this was not the first dance of the night. Cas, of course, still looked fresh and cool. All four were smiling from ear to ear.

Dean smiled, too. Seeing all of them having a good time, relaxed and happy...it was so rare. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t happened in this universe. The fact that it had happened anywhere was good enough.

He realized, as he looked through the next few pictures, Cas was wearing the same suit that was currently sitting below the diploma on the coffee table. He grinned again, piecing the clues together.

“So...Sammy got married.” He stated it, not really needing to ask. The photos were clearly of a wedding reception. The decorations in the background confirmed it. He was skimming through the photos a bit quicker, now, stopping to smile at the crazy pics of the four of them. He started to wonder what Sam’s wife looked like. He hadn’t seen a bride in any of the photos yet.

Cas swallowed and grabbed his wine. “Yes. Sam married,” he said quietly before chugging the remainder. He wiped the edges of his mouth with his hand. “But those...um...those photos are of a...um...different…” He stopped when he saw the photo Dean was looking at. His friend was staring, motionless and apparently in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. “I didn’t know he’d...I didn’t realize he’d sent those. I would have...um…”

Dean wasn’t listening. Instead, he was very slowly looking through the next ten or so photos. It was now abundantly clear why Sam had been dancing with Eileen in several of the previous pictures. (He found it interesting that Sam had managed to meet her in that universe, too, but it was a thought for another time.) Dean had already assumed she wasn’t the bride. She was in a lovely blue dress, not a wedding gown.

He was right. In fact, there was no bride at all. These photos showed Sam on the stage in a wedding ceremony, but in the position of Best Man, at Dean’s side. Dean was in the center and Castiel was holding his hands, facing him, smiling gently and staring at him with all the adoration and affection the angel had so often shown him in the past. Sam was staring at both of them. His eyes were red and wet, and his expression shamelessly dopey.

Bobby was standing at Cas’s side, clearly _his_ Best Man - though, Dean had to admit, he wasn’t exactly sure how the arrangements normally went when it was two grooms and no bride. He assumed it would be close to the same.

He continued to look through the pics, almost in a trance. Just as he decided he should stop, he let his thumb flip the page to one more picture.

Cas was alone, sitting on a pile of rumpled sheets and blankets in Dean’s old room at Bobby’s house. The bed had been pushed against the wall, right under the window and he was leaning his shoulder on the wood trim, gazing serenely out over the salvage yard. It looked like early morning. The sunlight only brightened the area near the window. The rest of the room was still dim. He was naked, his legs tucked up loosely with one thigh high enough to keep the photo modest. The soft light shone on his skin, giving his face and body a subtle glow. It accentuated the auburn and gold highlights in his dark hair, which was even more of a mess than usual - all spikes and pillow-crushed tufts. He looked happier and more at peace than Dean had ever seen him. He was beautiful.

Dean stared at the photo for several long moments, before gently closing the stack. He slipped them back into the envelope, and then set it on top of his letters.

A sniff broke his reverie. He worked up the courage to look over just as the angel closed his eyes, sending a cascade of tears down his cheeks. Cas sniffed again...then reached for a pair of socks.

Dean sighed quietly. He was still fighting through his own shock, but it was pretty clear to him that Cas’s stash of socks wasn’t going to be enough, if they both turned on the water works. He slowly stood and walked to the kitchen counter.

Cas sat quietly, staring at his own hands in his lap. He heard and felt Dean return to the couch and then a roll of paper towels appeared in his peripheral vision. He took them without looking at his friend.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered back. He stood in front of his spot on the couch, unable to relax enough to sit. He spent a long, awkward moment staring blankly at his stack of envelopes on the coffee table, before deciding now would be a good time to stoke the little fire... Fastidiously... For far longer than was necessary.

Cas looked up to stare at Dean’s back, from time to time, but mostly kept his gaze down. Eventually he broke the silence.

“Why-” Cas began, but had to stop to clear his throat. He sniffed again and tore off another paper towel. “Why did Sam say he was in Oregon...when I inquired?”

Dean put one more small log onto the fire and pushed it into position with the poker while he thought back, trying to place the question in context. Then he caught on.

“We didn’t know it was you.” He prodded the fire a couple of times and then placed the poker in it’s stand and walked back to the couch. “It was comin’ from your old phone, but... you’d...I mean, the other you... told us he lost it.” He sighed heavily as he sat, and let out a soft groan. “He told us a lotta shit. I guess we really need to rethink all of it. I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on, now.”

“Have you been able to establish if he really is an angel? If he is, indeed, another version of me?”

“Honestly...it didn’t occur to us,” Dean said, leaning back fully into the seat. “I mean, I knew when Jack did whatever he did to you at the playground that somethin’ was up, so the weirdness was… I dunno. We kinda accepted it. But...the whole idea that maybe it wasn’t you at all… We didn’t…”

“It’s understandable,” Cas gently cut him off.

“It’s not like I didn’t notice...is what I mean.” Dean looked over at him. His expression was suddenly much more intense and he waited until the angel was looking him in the eye. “I noticed, Cas.”

The experience of deja-vu was overwhelming. Cas had seen the same expression so many times on the face of the other Dean. Seeing it here, in this universe was making it difficult for him to believe he really was back. He knew what that expression had meant when the other Dean had worn it. He wanted it to mean the same thing, here...wanted it badly enough to allow himself a glimmer of hope...which he immediately squashed. He knew better.

Whether they were the same or not, the emotions Dean was conveying threatened to break the control Cas had regained over himself. He dropped his gaze.

“I was curious to know what you’d determined about him. No one would expect you to have known I was pulled into a parallel universe. The likelihood of that happening…”

“Uh, yeah. Didn’t see that one comin’,” Dean agreed with a small grin. Cas looked back up at him. He snorted, then sniffed and wiped his nose again.

“So, the confusion with the bees...that was also an attempt to verify my identity?”

Dean nodded.

Cas continued. “You mentioned… this _other_ Castiel… Jack has needed to perform ‘mind-melds’ with him? Was that an attempt at a literal description or were you- ”

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “They’ve, uh...they’re doin’ these weird rituals. Cas...the other Cas...puts his hand on Jack’s chest and recites some...chant.”

“Enochian?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Dean said, finally looking over at his friend. “We don’t know what language it is. Sam didn’t like the looks or sounds of it, either. He got a video, without either of ‘em noticing, but we still don’t know what it is.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, pulled up the short video and played it.

“Hmm,” Cas grunted.

“You recognize it?”

“The language, yes. Not the ritual. It's a distinct tribal language that was spoken by a relatively small population, prior to the development of classical Sumerian. Some of it was absorbed into the main vernacular, but the language itself was lost. I doubt your scholars know it ever existed.”

“Got any idea what they’re doin’?” Dean took his phone back and slipped it into his pocket.

“I believe your chosen description of ‘mind-meld’ may be quite accurate. This...other Castiel...appears to be executing a full transfer of thoughts and memories. You said they’ve done this on several occasions?”

“Yeah, about twice a week, we think,” Dean nodded. “‘Least that’s what it was like at the beginning. You… _He_...took Jack and split after about three weeks. We’ve been tryin’ to keep in contact, but he hasn’t made it easy.”

“Hmm…” Cas grunted. “Perhaps he’s doing the transfer in small batches. This ritual seems to be focused on enhancing the realism and detail of the memories.” The furrow in Cas’s brow deepened and he leaned back in his seat, matching Dean’s position. He stared at the ceiling...thinking. “It’s rather worrisome. I suspect a desire on his part to control not only the information that’s being imparted but also the way that information is perceived by the nephilim.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dean moaned.

“No, it doesn’t.” Cas breathed deeply and sighed. “It is possible, of course, that the intentions of this...other Castiel...are good, but- ”

“But when does good shit ever happen to us?” Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Also, it’s unlikely this is a parallel version of... _me_. I sincerely doubt this creature is an angel.”

“What’re you thinkin’ he is? Or, _it_ is?”

“There’s too little information, but in a ritual that requires this level of focus, an angel would almost certainly use Old Enochian... _High_ Enochian. The risk of introducing unpredictability and variance into the spellwork would be too great, otherwise. The only reason to use a human language would be if the original spell or ritual had been created in partnership with humans at a time and place that particular language was in use. Which, again, does not lend itself favorably to the idea that this is an angel. There were no interactive posts in that area, at that time.”

Dean's brow furrowed.

“My garrison was assigned to that region,” Cas answered the unspoken question “We witnessed the formation of the Sumerian civilization and the establishment of its first cities.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, allowing himself only a couple of seconds to stare at Cas and let the angel’s incredible age and store of experiences wash over him, once again. He shook himself out of it. This wasn’t the time for another ‘ _Holy shit! Cas is an ANGEL!_ ’ freak out. He hadn’t had nearly enough booze for that.

“So, not only is it not _you_ with Jack right now, it’s probably some kinda... _thing._ ” Dean grumbled. “And it’s been feedin’ who knows what into that kid’s head since day one. That’s just…great.” He wriggled down further into the cushions and brought his hand up to rub his eyes. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“It’s...certainly not ideal,” Cas agreed.

Dean snorted. He let his head roll to the side so he could look at his friend. Cas did the same. They both grinned and Dean chuckled ironically.

“In a way, I’m grateful,” Cas said with a heavy sigh. “If it were any less worrisome I’d have difficulty believing I was back home.”

Dean openly laughed. “Be careful, man. You’re startin’ to sound like me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone I’d want to imitate more.” Cas’s tone was still humorous, but he clearly meant it and it stopped Dean’s laughter very quickly. The two of them stared at each other until neither one could take it anymore.

Cas sighed again and closed his eyes. “Dean- ”

“Cas… You don’t have to-”

“Nothing is more important to me that our friendship.” Cas continued. Dean groaned quietly and briefly closed his eyes, bracing himself. “What you and Sam have given me...what we’ve shared together...when I said it’s changed me, I meant it. And when I told you that I love you, I meant that, too. I do, Dean. As my friend, first and foremost. Anything else would be…” He paused and swallowed, wiping his nose again. “Your friendship is enough. It’s everything. I never would have jeopardized that by saying anything about any of this.”

Cas motioned vaguely at the coffee table covered in the evidence of their parallel relationship. Dean looked at it, too. His gaze quickly settled on the envelope full of pictures.

“So, he was right,” Dean said and looked back over at Cas. “You wouldn’t have told me.” The sad tone of his voice was quickly morphing into frustration and anger. “What were you gonna do? Throw it all away? Look through those private letters they sent and...edit shit out? Or just toss ‘em? Were you gonna throw out _Bobby’s_ letters _too?"_

“I didn’t know _what_ to do!” Cas answered, lifting his hands in frustration. “I hoped I...that maybe the letters would be... _I didn’t know, Dean!_ What would _you_ have done?”

Dean set his jaw, but kept quiet. He knew he didn’t have an answer for that, but the idea that Cas would bury all the evidence wasn’t sitting right with him. It hurt. And he resented the fact that he felt like somehow this was all his fault.

“They gave me the letters just before I left. I didn’t have time…” Cas swallowed and looked back at the ceiling. He was crying again and that fact was making it even harder for him to say what he needed to say. “I’d always been under the impression that you thought of me as a friend. Nothing more. I accepted that.”

He cut himself off, reaching for the roll of paper towels and peeling off a few more. Wiping his face, he huffed, irritated. “ _This,”_ he said, gesturing at his face and the towel, _“_ is an extremely unhelpful reaction.” He blew his nose loudly and with clear disdain. “It started in the other universe and I can’t seem to make it stop, now.” He shook his head. “I should have been more disciplined. Apologies.”

There was a short pause before Dean cleared his throat.

“You get to cry sometimes, Cas. It’s allowed.”

“I shouldn’t have given in. Shouldn’t have...let myself do the things...I… I shouldn’t have let myself…” he trailed off.

“What? Feel?” Dean looked back over at him but Cas kept his focus on the ceiling.

“It’s much more difficult, now,” Cas said, barely above a whisper. “Now that I know.”

“Know wha… ah, man,” Dean groaned. “Did he... Did he push you to…” he winced. “Shit. Don’t answer that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No,” Cas said, letting his head roll to look at his friend. “He offered, but… No.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean repeated. “Seriously, Cas, you don’t owe me any kinda explanation. At all. What you did or didn’t do, it’s not- ”

“It’s alright.”

Letting out a puff of breath, Dean put both hands up to his face and briefly rubbed. Then he dragged them both down and let them fall heavily in his lap.

“I’m sorry.”

There was another long pause while neither of them looked at each other. Both were fidgeting uncomfortably and it was obvious the conversation needed to escalate or end, but it wasn’t going to go either direction without a push.

“So, what… Uh... What’s more difficult now?” Dean finally asked. He was clearly anxious, but he gave his friend his full attention anyway.

Cas swallowed and looked back up at the ceiling.

“Ignoring it.” He sniffed loudly again and the paper towels went back to work. “It’s easier, when there’s no hope. You stop looking for hints - stop wondering if there’s another meaning behind words or actions. You know there isn’t. There never was. You can...push it aside. Focus on the task at hand and try not to think about it. It works. For the most part. There were only a few occasions when it hurt enough to make it impossible for me to be around you. Those were always short lived. A day or two. Nothing I couldn’t manage.” Cas was still looking at the ceiling and wiping his nose after every couple of sentences. His voice had relaxed and he seemed to be talking to himself as much as to his friend. “Now, though...knowing that you _did_ have feelings for me...before I betrayed you. Knowing it could have been...very different...it’s...um...” Cas trailed off.

Dean stared at him for a long moment, opening his mouth to speak several times, but thinking better of it.

“I told you I’d find a way to redeem myself to you,” Cas continued. “I tried, Dean. Over and over, I tried. But I failed. Every time.” He looked at his friend as a fresh wave of tears coursed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Dean continued to stare in stunned silence. All the scattered little puzzle pieces of his relationship with Cas over the last six or more years were snapping into place with alarming ease. They all fit, now. All of them. He couldn’t believe he’d missed this.

“ _That’s_ what you’ve been doin’?” Dean asked, sounding just as shocked as he looked. “This whole damned time?”

Cas sniffed and kept looking at him.

“Shit,” Dean groaned. He’d have laughed at the absurdity if he didn’t feel like such a moron. “That’s not… Cas, you… That’s…” He was shaking his head, trying to fit the jumble of words in his mind together into something that would even remotely make sense. In the end, he gave up and reached across the table for a pair of Cas’s new shoes. He figured they’d fit close enough.

“What are you doing,” Cas asked as he watched Dean put them on. They appeared to be only slightly tight on him.

“There’s beer in the cooler...and half a bottle of Jack in the trunk...and I ain’t having the rest of this conversation without both of ‘em.” He finished squeezing his heel into the second shoe and stood, staring down at Cas. He pointed down to his feet. “I’m borrowin’ these,” he said as he stepped over Cas’s legs and headed for the front door. He diverted and grabbed his keys off the kitchen table.

Cas watched him go. Moments later, he had to swallow a massive lump in his throat and stifle the urge to leap up and run out after him, when he heard the Impala’s engine start. He kicked himself when he realized Dean was simply pulling the car closer to the cabin.

Cas squeezed his eyes shut and took a long deep breath. He had to pull himself together. He was being ridiculous.

The storm was raging outside. He was sure his friend would be soaked when he came back in, so he began sifting through the clothing on the table, looking for a suitable t-shirt and sleep pants. He wasn’t sure if Dean had packed a spare set, but he now knew that in t-shirts, at least, they both wore the same size. And boxers. He guessed the pants would probably fit, too, but just in case, he tried to remember which of them had fit him the baggiest, when he last wore them.

He heard a thump on the porch and the sound of gagging. It was quiet and then the trunk of the Impala slammed shut and there was a scraping sound starting next to the door and leading all the way to the edge of the porch at the side of the cabin. The sound happened a second time, exactly like the first. It was periodically interrupted by gagging.

Moments later, the door burst open, and a drenched Dean tossed his shovel on the porch and hurried in, slamming the door behind him, not at all caring if he woke Sam. He looked mildly traumatized.

“Ok...I shoved our clothes off the porch. They’re under the downspout” he announced and tried in vain to take a breath of fresh air without gagging again. “They still smell like that in the mornin’, I’m burnin’ ‘em.” He shuddered. “ _Fuck_ , that is gross!”

He made his way to the table with the cooler, setting it down and fishing out the bottle of whiskey he’d tossed in there for ease of transport. Then he pulled out a dripping six-pack of beer, pulled two cans out of the rings and tossed the other four in the refrigerator. He began going through the cabinets, looking for whiskey glasses. The best he could find were a couple of very small mason jars. They’d work.

When he turned back to the table, Cas was standing nearby, silently watching him, holding a stack of dry clothes like an offering.

Dean looked at him for a long moment, forcefully willing himself to not do or say anything stupid. Cas was trying so hard to keep things comfortable between them. He clearly had no idea what to do. Neither did Dean, of course, but he realized a single thoughtless word right now would probably crush Cas. The pain in his friend’s eyes was so clear to him...he wondered how he could ever have mistaken it for anything else. Without a word, he set the jars on the table and walked over to him.

“I think they’ll fit,” Cas mumbled, dropping his gaze down and fidgeting awkwardly as Dean got very close.

Dean took the little stack from him and set it on the table.Then he reached both arms around Cas and pulled him into a hug.

It took Cas a moment, but he eventually got both his arms around Dean, too...and he held on, seemingly for dear life. He buried his face in Dean’s shoulder and continued to adjust his grip on him until he had pulled him as close as he possibly could.

Dean sighed and turned his face toward Cas’s ear.

“I don’t know what you thought redeeming yourself should look like, but from my side...you and me...we’re good. Have been for a long time.” He nudged Cas’s head with his own and lightly pat the angel’s back. “I’m gonna get pissed at ya now and again. It happens. Even with family. Hell... _especially_ with family. It doesn’t change anything.” He hesitated for a moment and sighed again. “It was never about that, Cas.”

Again, they were silent. Dean had begun to slowly rock from side to side, taking the angel along with him. Cas let him. It was soothing. He couldn’t explain why. Eventually, though, he had to ask. He didn’t want to.

“So…” Cas began very hesitantly. “You, um… Even at first… You never...um… Never felt…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to ask the question properly. Saying it outright felt too blunt, even to him. He couldn’t do it.

Dean had closed his eyes and the swaying became a little more intense. The internal war he was raging with himself was nearing critical levels and he knew he either needed to say it right now or he never would.

“I did, Cas. The other me...he was right.”

The swaying stopped and every muscle in Dean’s body began to tighten. The raw panic coursing through him at the realization that he’d just said it outloud was almost completely crippling. His mind raced, but all his thoughts were garbled. He couldn’t even pinpoint what he was afraid might happen. He only knew that he’d just lit a fuse. With any luck, the explosion would be nothing more than some firecrackers. But the idea that it might be a thermonuclear detonation that would instantly vaporize him was also strangely appealing at the moment. Either way, there was no taking his statement back. It was out there now. Cas knew exactly what he meant and everything would change. Life as he knew it was over.

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, with a big sniff.

Dean sighed, resisting the urge to give up on this entire conversation and run back out of the cabin and down the road in his drenched pj’s and Cas’s too tight shoes, and never, ever stop. He should have seen this coming. Of course, Cas wouldn’t make it easy. It would have to be laid out for him in painful, terrifying detail.

“It... _wasn’t_ my betrayal that destroyed those feelings?” Cas turned his face more toward Dean’s neck until he was able to see at least part of his friend’s expression. “Was it Purgatory? Are you still angry with me about-”

“No,” Dean tried to assure him, but his frustration was clear in his voice. He groaned and sighed at the same time and let his head drop back a little. “Cas…” He couldn’t get any further.

He felt Cas slump in his arms. The angel seemed to actually shrink a little and Dean realized it was now or never, once again. He sincerely hoped this was the last time. He didn’t know how many more misunderstood professions of love he’d be able white-knuckle his way through tonight.

“I never stopped. Feeling...that way...I mean.” He swallowed and braced himself, before daring to look down and meet the angel’s partially buried face. Cas’s one visible eye was staring at him. “I...uhm…” Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I still do.”

And there it was - clear understanding in the angel’s expression. Finally, Dean could be certain he’d just screwed himself and get on with a full blown panic attack.

Cas’s brow furrowed, but he never stopped staring at his friend.

“You never said anything,” Cas said, partly as a question.

“Neither did you,” Dean challenged. He looked back at him with the beginnings of a tiny grin.

“I didn’t know...how to...um…”

“Me neither.”

Cas’s face was scrunching further as he processed all of this. Eventually he shook his head.

“If it wasn’t what I’d done… I don’t… The other Dean said you’d-”

“You left, Cas.” Dean’s tone stopped Cas’s floundering. The words were like a slap and the angel froze.

Dean let him think about it for a moment, before continuing.

“You always left. Every time we had a chance to just...I dunno... _breathe_ for a second… You always left.” Dean was looking down at Cas’s shoulder now. “It didn’t matter what I thought or...felt. You were gonna leave again.”

“Dean-”

“I can take...pretty much anything off of anybody. I mean, you can pull all manner of bullshit, and if I know you’re sorry I can let it slide. But you can’t… I can’t, um…” Dean swallowed and realized the lump in his throat was too big to shove down. He tried a few more times, hoping to stem the tide, but it was too late. He was already crying.

“I never really wanted to leave,” Cas murmured. “I wanted to stay with you and Sam. Even the times I chose-”

“I know,” Dean said, nodding. “I know ya did. But that’s...kinda the point. There’s always gonna be some big thing...some crisis in Heaven or some crazed archangel on the loose or...you gotta go take care of some... _thing_ … And you’ll leave.” He unabashedly wiped his nose on Cas’s coat. He refused to make sniffling noises while he was saying any of this. “I can’t… I can’t be with someone...I know is gonna leave. Everyone leaves, eventually. But if I already know you’re gonna… I just...I can’t.”

For a long moment, Cas was silent. He repositioned his face and arms slightly and leaned into his friend a little bit more.

“So…” Cas paused to clear his throat. He swallowed and continued, hesitantly. “What if...um… What if I promised to stay?”

Dean sighed and pat Cas’s back a couple of times. “You can’t promise that. There’s always gonna be something that comes up. And you’re gonna wanna handle it. And you should. It’s what we do, right? We help. The family business. You’re part of that. You always have been.”

There was another long pause. Dean took the opportunity to wipe his eyes.

“What if…” Cas said, dragging the words out just a bit.

“Cas…” Dean groaned.

“No, listen. What if…I promised to take you with me?” He pulled back just a little, so he could better see Dean. “Or if I can’t take you with me, what if I promised that...as soon as I’m done or as soon as I have a break...I’ll come back? And I’ll stay...as long as I can. Would that…um... Would it change...anything?”

Dean began rocking again as he thought about it. After several long seconds he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I really don’t. I mean, it’s… I can’t even believe we’re talkin’ about this. I’ve been shovin’ all of this outta my head for...years. I got nothin’ right now.”

Cas nodded. “That’s...understandable.”

“I mean, I’m not tryin’ to blow you off-”

“I know,” Cas assured him.

Dean sighed again and squeezed his friend tighter. “I have no idea, Cas.”

Cas nodded again and gently pat Dean’s back. They rocked quietly for a few moments.

“Well...I promise to stay or to take you with me, from now on, anyway. You’re my friend. I don’t want to hurt you. So, I’ll stay. As much as I can. No matter if...you want me the other way or not.”

There was another long pause and Dean’s voice obviously cracked when he finally spoke. He kept his face buried in Cas’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do it anyway,” Cas promised. He was helping Dean to keep the same pace in his rocking, now, and gently rubbing his friend’s back.

“It’s _my_ problem, Cas-”

“I’ll do it anyway,” Cas whispered. “I love you, Dean.” He hesitated, trying to keep himself from fully breaking. “I don’t know when I’ll have the courage to say it again...but it’s true. I love you. I always have.” 

They fell silent again and the moment lingered.

Outside, the wind abruptly picked up, filling the room with a dull roar. The cabin shuddered and creaked. A pulse of thunder rattled the windows in their frames and the small fire blazed as the low pressure around the cabin pulled air up through the chimney.

When the wind died back, Dean sniffed and cleared his throat. “Was that you?” His face was still buried in Cas’s coat so his voice was muffled.

It took a second, but then Cas snorted and grinned.

“That was not me.”

“You sure? You kinda get a flare for the dramatic sometimes.”

Cas’s grin grew. “You should change into dry clothing. You’re shivering.” He very gently coaxed Dean into breaking the hug. It was then that he realized just how hard Dean had been crying - his face was wrecked and it wasn’t showing signs of clearing any time soon.

Cas held his friend’s arms for just a moment, then stepped around him to grab the paper towels from the couch. He handed them to him and quickly poured them each a full jar of whiskey. He walked back to stand in front of his friend and handed him one of the jars. Dean took it gratefully.

“To... _non_ -absent friends,” Cas said. He raised his jar in a toast.

Dean allowed himself a brief glance at the angel, before he clinked his jar against Cas’s and took a big swig. Cas downed the whole thing, of course. It wouldn’t affect him much anyway.

Dean stared at the remaining whiskey in his jar for a long time. Then he reached up and rubbed his eyes.

“I have no idea what to do right now.” He sighed and dropped his hand away. He raised the jar to his lips, again, intending to finish off the remainder.

“Well,” Cas said thoughtfully, “we could get drunk and make out on the couch.”

It would have been a perfect spit take if Dean hadn’t already been in the process of swallowing. As it was, the whiskey went every direction it shouldn’t have inside Dean’s throat and nasal passages and the man began a frenzied, painful-looking coughing fit.

Cas winced apologetically and reached forward, using his grace to try to help ease his friend’s discomfort. Dean coughed one final time and cleared his throat.

“That was the least helpful thing you could have possibly said.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas said through a quiet giggle. “The... _other you_ often used that suggestion to break the tension when our conversations became too serious. I thought perhaps it would be helpful in this situation.”

Dean looked back at him, and then cracked a smile. “S’ok,” he grunted with a single nod. “It was pretty damned funny, you just...caught me off guard.” He raised his hand to wag a finger at the angel. “Don’t steal my lines!”

“Of course,” Cas said, still grinning. “My apologies.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Dean had to reach out. He didn’t have the words to convey what he felt. He needed to touch him. He cupped his hand around Cas’s neck and face.

Cas’s grin increased, and when Dean let his thumb glide softly across his cheek, Cas closed his eyes and tilted his head into the touch.

Dean swallowed hard and a fresh batch of tears ran down his cheeks. It was surreal...and overwhelming. A couple of hours ago, Cas loving him and alien encounters were the only two things he knew for certain to be in the one hundred percent ‘not-gonna-happen’ category. The fact that one of those things was now inarguably happening seemed to be proof that he was imagining all of this. He kept waiting for the punch line. Or to wake up.

But it wasn’t a joke. And he wasn’t dreaming. This was real. He was standing there, holding his friend’s beautiful face, watching him savor what Dean had always been too afraid to give him. It was too much.

Cas let his eyes slowly open again and when he saw the emotional upheaval and exhaustion in Dean’s face, he knew it was time to stop.

“You need to rest,” he barely said. He squeezed Dean’s forearm which he only now realized he’d reached up and taken hold of, at some point. Clearing his throat, he broke eye contact, so he could try to regain some composure. “You should...change into dry clothes. Get some sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Dean’s gaze never wavered. He stood staring at the angel, releasing his hold on his friend’s face very reluctantly. Cas forced himself to remove his hand from Dean’s arm and break contact.

“I’ll...see if I can remove the filth from the clothing outside.”

“The, uh...boots and jackets are really...they’re all that matter. We’ve got more of the other stuff.”

Cas nodded and after a short hesitation, he turned toward the door.

“You’re comin’ with us, right? Tomorrow?” Dean asked. His voice was quiet, but he sounded very hopeful. “You don’t have...some other...stuff-”

“I’m coming with you.”

They stared for a long moment. Eventually Cas gestured toward the stack of clothes on the table. “Get warm,” he murmured, and then turned and went out the front door. He pulled it gently closed behind him and Dean was alone in the room.

The stillness quickly became intolerable. He reached for the clothes and walked to the corner near the fireplace, out of sight of the front window. Cas reentered the house, just as Dean was slipping the dry t-shirt over his head.

Cas had the clothing draped over his arm and both pairs of boots in his hands. He held them up with a tiny nod of triumph.

“Luckily, this creature was simply loathsome...but not cursed. I was able to remove it all very easily.”

“Ah...that’s awesome,” Dean breathed, finally starting to feel a bit more like himself again. He thought for a moment and then winced. “So...would I be pushin’ it to ask you to do that for the car, too? We got outta there in a hurry, so...that shit kinda got everywhere. At least driver seat and shotgun. The doors...the steering wheel…”

Cas grinned. “Of course.” He turned and walked back toward the door.

“Keys,” Dean called back to him. He trotted over to the table, grabbed the keys and tossed them to the angel. Cas caught them one handed this time. Dean smiled.

The front door closed and, once again, he was alone. The relative silence was deafening. He stood there, feeling like a nervous idiot for about five seconds before heading to the refrigerator and pulling out two cold beers. He took them back to the couch and sat down...and remembered he’d already gotten two beers out that they’d never opened. And then he realized he’d changed his clothes but was still wearing Cas’s wet, too-tight shoes for no particular reason.

He groaned and chuckled nervously. He hadn’t felt this flustered in a very long time and he wished with all his heart he wasn’t so dead tired right now. He wanted to do...something. He had no idea what, but the idea of just going to sleep when the best thing that had ever happened to him was about to walk back in and spend the night...and NOT leave in the morning… He couldn’t imagine anything he wanted to do less than sleep through even a moment of that. They both led horribly dangerous lives. There was no telling how many days, hours or even minutes either of them had left and the idea of wasting any of it was just…

The door opened, and closed, and Cas walked slowly to the table to drop off the keys. Dean turned and looked over the back of the couch so he could watch him.

“I got us both a fresh beer,” he said with a goofy, nervous smile, and immediately felt like that was possibly the stupidest thing that had ever come out of his mouth. His face contorted into several uncomfortable expressions before he closed his eyes in embarrassment and turned back around to stare, horrified, at the fire. He popped open his beer and damned near slammed the whole thing in one go.

Cas made his way to the other seat on the couch and stood there, watching Dean sympathetically.

“Nothing’s changed, Dean,” he said quietly.

Dean looked up at him with complete incredulity, furrowing his brow and shaking his head like he could not believe Cas had just said that. At which point, the angel acknowledged how ridiculous that sounded and nodded.

“I meant...you don’t need to...do anything. Or change anything.” Cas sat slowly, letting out a long, heavy sigh. “I have no expectations. Only that you remain my friend. Whatever else may happen as a result of...these...um...revelations...I’ll take as a bonus.” Dean met his gaze after that and Cas gently smiled back at him.

Dean nodded and dropped his gaze back down to the beer in his hands.

“You really should go to bed,” Cas coaxed again.

“I’m fine right here,” Dean replied. He finished off the rest of his beer.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs in one of the bed-”

“You’re gonna be down here, right?” Dean asked, cutting him off.

Cas stared at him, squinting slightly. He nodded when Dean looked over at him.

“I’m stayin’ down here, then,” Dean said. He set the can on the coffee table and leaned back in his seat.

Cas stared at him for a few seconds, trying to understand what was happening. Eventually, he decided to leave it alone and he turned his gaze back to the fire.

He leaned forward and opened his beer. Taking a sip, he scooted to the edge of his seat so he could begin sorting through the collection of files the other Sam had loaded onto DVDs. He was arranging them based on some logical criteria that Dean wasn’t going to attempt to figure out tonight.

A few minutes later, Cas glanced over at his friend and saw that Dean’s eyes were closed and his head was hanging lower and lower every second. He smiled at him and stopped his rummaging through the duffel bag.

“Dean,” Cas said quietly. Dean’s eyes popped open for a second or two and then immediately began to droop and close again.

“‘M awake,” Dean mumbled.

Cas snorted. “Yes, I can see that.” He reached behind himself and pulled off the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Then he grabbed the extra cushion from his seat and placed it against the arm of the couch so he could turn to the side and lean back on it. He took the center cushion and placed it on top of the leg he'd folded up under himself.

“Lie down,” he said, lightly patting the top of the pillow.

Dean looked over at him questioningly. He wasn’t sure if he should take the angel up on the offer. It was an extremely couple-ish position to fall asleep in and it immediately tripped every instinctive alarm in him. For a brief moment, he was wide awake. Then, the fatigue overtook him again and he gave up. He rolled to the side and curled up with his head and shoulder on the pillow and his legs tucked up onto the couch. Cas unfurled the blanket over him and made sure he was completely covered.

“You can’t reach the table like this,” Dean mumbled.

“I don’t need to do that right now. It can wait.”

“You’re gonna get bored.”

“I won’t be bored.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Dean’s voice was barely audible and he was slurring, almost asleep.

Cas hesitated. In the silence, he very slowly reached down and let his hand gently pet Dean’s hair.

“‘S’ok,” Dean mumbled. “You can say it.”

Cas smiled and continued to pet him. Dean sighed contentedly and snuggled up a little on the pillow.

“I’ll watch over you,” Cas said, barely above a whisper.

“K,” Dean breathed.

“Yeah?” Cas asked.

“Yeah.”

A few moments passed, and then Dean wriggled again, getting himself more comfortable. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sam started moving around upstairs just as the grandfather clock began to chime five o’clock. It was only a few minutes before the young man trotted briskly down the stairs.

“Mornin’, Cas,” he said with a small grin.

Cas waved a greeting, but didn’t speak. Sam found that odd enough to divert his path toward his friend, instead of the kitchen. He quietly leaned over the couch to see his brother still sleeping in Cas’s lap.

The smile that spread across Sam’s face was nothing short of dazzling. He looked at Cas and raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

Cas tilted his head, smiling, and gave his friend a dismissive eye roll. Sam giggled.

“Ok,” he nodded approvingly and straightened up. With another huge smile, he winked at Cas and headed back toward the kitchen. “I was gonna go for a jog,” he chatted in a very low whisper, “but, I figure it’d just get my sneakers all muddy and since my boots are…” He stopped, setting a bowl full of leftovers from last night’s dinner on the table right next to his completely clean boots. He pursed his lips and stared at them. “Well, ok, then.” He turned and headed back up the stairs. Moments later he descended again, this time in running shorts and socks, carrying his sneakers. He sat at the kitchen table and began lacing them up.

“So,” he said, looking from his shoes to Cas and back several times. “Anything I should...know about?” He was trying to be tactful, but he really couldn’t help grinning. He was far too happy for both of them to do anything else.

“No,” Cas whispered back. He looked at his friend meaningfully. “Nothing’s changed, Sam.”

Sam snorted and side-eyed Cas. “Yeah,” he said, making it very clear Cas was ridiculous for even trying to act like that was true. Cas rolled his eyes again.

“I won’t be long,” Sam said, chugging a big glass of water and setting it on the counter. He wiped his mouth and let out a big sigh as he looked back over at Cas. “Unless...you need me to be?” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at the angel.

“Sam…”

“I could...ya know...take my time? Check out the sights-”

“Get out.”

Sam laughed as quietly as he could and trotted lightly out the door. Cas grinned and shook his head.

Dean managed to sleep through the entire exchange and the angel continued to watch him, pleased to witness a rare occasion when his friend looked extremely comfortable and at peace. He was still asleep half an hour later, when Sam came back.

Sam took his time showering and dressing, and he packed up much more slowly and thoroughly than usual. He did a few extra things, too, like cleaning and organizing his shaving kit, and sorting the few loose items in his duffel into pockets. He thoroughly cleaned the mud off of his sneakers, not just a quick rinse. Eventually, there was nothing left to do and it was getting late. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed back downstairs.

When he saw Cas exactly where he'd left him, and his brother still completely out of it, he knew he had to put his foot down.

“Dude…” Sam said as he sat to eat the bowl of leftovers he’d made for himself earlier. “You gotta wake him up now. Come on.”

“He rarely sleeps this well, Sam,” Cas tried to say without whining. He managed it, but just barely.

Sam smiled. “Yeah, I know,” he said with more than a hint of humor. “But you let him sleep too long and he’s gonna wake up groggy. He’ll be miserable. And pissed we let him sleep in when we’ve got stuff to do.” Sam chewed and swallowed, making his way through the leftovers in record time. “Plus, he’ll be crabby and it’s a long car ride today and I don’t wanna have to put up with his shit.”

“Perhaps...he could ride with me today?” Cas said, almost sheepishly...as though suggesting it was somehow imposing or even crossing a line. Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at the angel.

“Huh,” Sam said, with a badly concealed grin. “Maybe.” He went back to his meal and the grin got bigger. “It’d probably be good to have someone who knows how to fix cars ride along with you anyway. No offense, but that truck of yours...I’m pretty sure Dean’s been makin’ plans to take it out back and shoot it. It’s really the humane thing to do, at this point.”

“What’s wrong with my truck,” Cas asked defensively...and, once again, a little hurt by the criticism of his vehicle.

“Nothin’, Cas,” Sam assured him. “It’s a great truck. Ya know...other than it needs new brakes, tires, shocks and a new engine and probably transmission, too. Other than that, though...it’s great.”

Cas wasn’t entirely sure exactly what that meant, but it was clear from the younger Winchester’s tone that his truck was being thoroughly disrespected.

“I like it,” he snapped.

“Ok...well, have Dean tell ya what it’ll take to keep it running and you guys can come up with somethin’, I’m sure.” Sam finished his food and rose to take the bowl to the sink. He noticed the hurt look on Cas’s face and stopped.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean...it’s not a crappy truck. I know you like it. It just...needs a lotta work, that’s all. And you need somethin’ that’s not gonna break down on ya. Ya know? Dean can tell you all about it, I promise. He’s been itchin’ to anyway.” Sam paused and sighed. “Constantly,” he said with more than a little fatigue. “He just... worries about ya. Wants to make sure you don’t get stuck somewhere.”

“I can take care of myself, Sam. Neither of you needs to worry.”

Sam looked at him and let out a heavy sigh. “Dude...seriously?” He shook his head. “Wow, this is...not gonna be as fun as I thought,” he muttered to himself as he took the bowl to the sink and washed it. When he was done, he made his way over to the couch and leaned down on the back of it, still keeping his voice very low.

“Cas...him worrying about you in that truck doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you can take of yourself. Ok? It’s his way of telling you he cares. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t ever talk about you or that truck or worry about you or drive me nuts wondering why you haven’t called or freak out when he thinks you’re in trouble and he can’t get to you or...any of the hundred other things he’s been obsessing over for years.”

Cas looked at the young man with open shock. After a moment, he looked down at the sleeping man in his lap...and then back up at Sam.

“Do you get what I’m sayin’?” Sam asked, hoping like hell he’d laid it out clearly enough, because obviously someone needed to.

Cas nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Ok. Awesome,” Sam said and clapped the angel on the shoulder and grinned at him. Then he looked down at his brother and popped him on the arm. “Hey,” Sam said at a more normal volume. Dean stirred slightly and made a tiny noise. “Yeah, yeah...up and at ‘em, jerk. Daylight’s wastin’.” He gave him another couple of firm pats on the arm and then stood and walked away.

Dean made a long undignified noise and then slowly shook himself awake. It took him a moment to figure out where he was...and then in who’s lap he was lying...and then to remember what happened last night. He was instantly awake then. He sat up immediately, looking around at his brother and then looking back at Cas. The angel was quietly smiling at him, completely unphased by Sam’s witnessing of their sleeping arrangements.

Dean looked back at Sam again and then took a moment to shake himself fully awake.

“Cas mentioned you ridin’ with him today,” Sam called over to his brother from the kitchen, as he put the remaining leftovers into a bowl for Dean and washed out the pot. “Sounds like a good idea, right? That truck’s on it’s last leg. You should ride with him ‘til you have a chance to look at it.”

Dean sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, and then cleared his throat.

“Yeah...prob’ly a good idea.” He looked over at Cas, trying his damnedest to be casual. “You’re ok with that?”

Cas beamed at him. “I’d love the company. If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll, uh...get dressed and we can hit the road.”

“There’s food,” Sam announced, pointing at the table.

“Awesome...thanks, Sammy.” Dean threw the blanket back on the couch and met Cas’s eyes again, when the angel stood.

“Gimme ten minutes,” Dean said, still staring at him.

“Of course,” Cas answered. The staring continued until Sam cleared his throat.

“Ok,” Dean said and turned and literally ran up the stairs.

Cas quietly scooped up the contents of his bag and put it all neatly back inside. He picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder, and headed for the door.

“There are a couple of items in here for you, Sam. I can give them to you now, or we can wait until we stop again?”

“Nah, I’m good waitin’. Unless, I mean, do I need them right now, or-”

“No, they’re...really for a time you have a moment to look at them and...think. It can wait.”

“Ok,” Sam said, suddenly a little freaked out but willing to trust his friend. “We’ll be out in a sec.”

Cas nodded and left.

Moments later, Dean blew down the steps far faster than he normally would. He was clearly trying to keep himself from looking too eager, but he was failing badly. Sam could read him like a book.

Dean scarfed down the food in the minimal number of bites, never bothering to sit at the table. He then handed the bowl and spoon to his brother.

“You got the rest of this?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the dishes and the rest of the cabin in general and not really waiting for the reply.

“Uh…” Sam began.

“Awesome,” Dean said, clapping his little brother on the back and heading for the front door, duffel bag already on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I got it,” Sam said to his brother’s back as Dean exited. He chuckled and shook his head. “Wow...all this time,” Sam mumbled to himself, “and in the end, all it took was one of them getting sucked into a parallel universe where they already _had_ a relationship... and _then_ somehow making his way _back_ to our universe with a smartbomb video on his phone that would auto-send and _out_ him to the other one involuntarily. I mean...it was simple, really. Why didn’t I think of that?” he finished rinsing the pot and set it in the drainer. A movement caught his eye outside the kitchen window and he leaned forward to see Cas, standing by the side of the house, staring at the spot where the rift had been. Moments later, the angel smiled softly and made a small bow with his head, then turned and walked back toward the front of the house.

Sam’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and saw the text from Dean.

     _'Truck’s good. Let’s go.'_

Sam grinned and slipped the phone in his pocket. He grabbed his bag and the keys to the Impala off the table before crossing the cabin to the front door. He stopped, taking one last look around, feeling strangely sentimental about the place, for some reason. Then he turned, opened the door, set the lock, and made sure it clicked when he pulled the door closed behind him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So many people asked about the letters and I was a terrible, cruel writer and didn't say anything else about them. Well...the lovely kisahawklin fixed that!  
> She has written a beautiful companion piece for this fic that captures what she thought might be in those letters. They're awesome and I am super stoked about this! Hell I wanted to know what they said, too. LOL  
> Please go check them out and give her some love. 
> 
> LETTERS TO DEAN, by kisahawklin  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12811185/chapters/29244270

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Letters to Dean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811185) by [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin)




End file.
